


idk what to title this

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, im cacklin at that ship name, minor Mandor (Matt/Bandor), royal au, sum sexy times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There's a lot of things Matt is expecting. He just doesn't know it yet.





	1. Chapter 1

He’s 5 when his younger sister comes into the world, and 6 when he finally gets to meet her. Her eyes, like his, are a beautiful shade of golden honey, and even he can tell that the spark of curiosity in those wide orbs won’t be fading anytime soon. She’s sickly as a child, but as they grow he notices that she doesn’t let that deter her, and instead looks up to him.

He’s 10 when his sister reaches 5 years of age and begins her own lessons. In public she knows not to cause a ruckus, but in the scant privacy the outdoors brings, when they have a moment of freedom to do as children do, she loudly whispers her dissent. She feels it tedious and unnecessary to bar certain activities solely based on the nature of one’s sex. He feels the same, but they’re children before they’re deemed precocious and prodigious, so they have no power. Nevertheless, in the rare moments he can, he brings his study materials and tutors his younger sister in the subjects she’s denied.

One day he finds her asleep in the garden, slumped over a bunch of books. Smart as she may be, she was still only a growing child and not easily roused. A few pigeons decide to rest on her, and he has an epiphany. When she wakes, she has a new name. She’s not happy, but at the end of the day she’s smiling.

He’s 15 and she’s 10 when he’s called to the throne room. He feels it unnecessary for such fanfare, but he knows that all eyes are on him as his 16th birthday quickly arises. He looks up at the throne to see a man as a king- not his father, and addresses him as a prince- not a son. It’s hardly intimate, and less so familial, and his mother the queen sits regally at the kings side, silent as her husband must drone on about the technicalities. There’s nothing either of them can do, for one day he must rise up in his father’s steed and rule over the kingdom- there is no question about that, and so he must go through with all the formalities to please the others around them.

He does not like it, but it is not unbearable so he goes through with what he knows is needed without a single word of complaint or a moment of hesitance. 

Later, when it’s just the two of them once more, his sister does voice her displeasure. She, as the younger sibling, had grown with less focused attention on her as a royal figure, and had less qualms about asserting her opinion. She had, instead, watched important characters flock to and fro around her older brother and parents, and grew to dislike what she saw. The lack of interpersonal connectedness and intimacy drew her away from people, and kept more to herself and their family.

He decides to poke fun at her, and captures her in a headlock to mess with her hair, to which she complains loudly, and teases her about staying in her room the rest of her life, and studying away for the entire duration. She huffs, and tells him to not exaggerate, that she wasn’t that much of a hermit, and he nods along sagely, much to her displeasure. Before he leaves, he does tease her one last time about how one way or another she’d find herself back in her room, and very narrowly dodges a book with a near maniacal laugh.

Preparation for the coming of age ball was as tedious as it sounded. Every so often he had to be remeasured, because he was in the middle of his growing period. Despite outgrowing his clothes, new special outfits were continuously made, only made to be worn once to see how some design may look on him before he outgrows that too. His official outfit would only be made 3 days before his birthday, and he was not to wear it until the day of. It was astounding to see how much work, necessary and debatably unnecessary was put into it. Nevertheless, he put his all in whatever he needed to do, and did so without a word of complaint.

The day of his birthday, much to his chagrin, was a beautiful day indeed. He was fitted early in the morning, barely before the first streaks of sunlight began to shine over the horizon. The clothes fit him perfectly, and were not unbearably uncomfortable to be in. He glances at himself in a mirror before he’s whisked away by the servants for final preparations. He’s given a rundown of the days activities, his agenda, and reviews over what he must know. His parents are already up, but he knows his sister remains asleep. He envies her, her freedom on this day where less eyes are on her than usual while he must be awake before dawn breaks. Still, many eyes will be on her at the ball, but only by potential suitors, and that doesn’t sit well with him. His instinct wants to shield his younger sister away from prying eyes, but he knows he can’t protect her forever. It’s almost all too soon that he sits down for breakfast, and his parents are waiting patiently and his sister wanders in languidly. Her hair is slightly ruffled, and there’s already wrinkles and creases in her dress, and he doesn’t miss his chance to poke fun at her appearance before his father calls for his attention.

His father is a greying man, with a lean figure and an aging face. He had chosen to have kids a bit later in his life, so the siblings only knew the older him instead of the younger one immortalized in textbooks and portraits. There’s a legend behind him, with a brilliant mind and experiences unique to him alone, so his voice carries power, respect, and authority, and everyone within earshot is listening intently. It’s suffocatingly formal, and it sounds only like his father- no, the king, is reciting textbook definition of what the ball means and signifies and what is expected of him, and then it’s not. His tone goes from a depressingly formal one to more fatherly and intimate one, and that grabs his attention more.

He tells him that while the ball was meant for him to start looking for a potential bride, it did not have to be so. The king- no, his father, tells him that he and his mother will be completely fine and supportive of whatever decision he made that night. His mother reaches over to hold his hand and looks on with such warmth and love that he can’t help but smile. His mother and father had a love story that would match right in a book of fairytales, and there were many before him that found their lifelong partners outside of balls and formalities, so he did not have to worry. He knew all of this, but being reassured was something else.

Still, he knew he would be branded as rude and disrespectful if he did not even try to look or socialize among those of his age group, so that night he found himself in a rather stuffy and large room, in clothes tailored just for him, all too aware of the eyes on him but professional enough to not outwardly acknowledge it.

He meets a young nice girl known as Romelle. She’s not a princess, but she is royalty, and she carried around her a sense of dignity. He gives her a bit more attention than others, to satisfy the nobles needs and his own curiosity. She’s a bit restless, so they go to a more secluded area of the room, just on the edge of exiting into the garden. He acts as every bit a prince that he was, and treats her like a princess that she could be, when someone else joins their conversation.

He’s Romelle’s older brother, her senior by a year, making him the same age as him, and he a bit of a carefree character. He momentarily raises an eyebrow before turning his attention back to his sister, and teases her with an inside joke that leaves Matt at a slight loss of what to do. Still, he retains his decorum, and patiently waits for the inside jokes to end so he can rejoin his conversation with Romelle. But that never happens. Instead, her brother teases her more, and drops a name that belongs to a girl that leaves Romelle’s face painted a pink so quick that the heat from the ball cannot be used an excuse, and yet that’s what she goes with when she hastily dismisses herself, leaving the two of them alone.

By all rights, he should be getting back to the party, should be appeasing the people with his actions for one night, but instead Romelle’s brother turns his attention to him and he can’t help but feel inraptured.

“My name is Bandor. What’s yours?” he asks, and gets closer to him to the point where personal boundaries are breached and any tact or thought of professionalism is long forgotten.

“I’m Matthew.” he tests, to gauge a reaction. If Bandor knows who he is, he shows no indication of it, and continue on to throw an arm over his shoulders, knocking Matt a bit unsteady on his feet. He barely has a moment to steady himself when he feels warm breath brush by his ear and only just manages to gleam what he says in his distracted state.

“Well Matt, what do you say we ditch this shindig and do some exploring of our own.” Bandor says, dropping the formalities completely. 

Matt glances towards the party, excuses ready on his tongue, but then he sees his sister escaping as subtle as she can, and sees his parents nowhere in sight, before turning back to Bandor, noses grazing as he looked him straight in the eye and smirked.

“You know what, why not.”

It was the first time he had ever neglected his duties as a prince, and as he was pulled along by this stranger into a garden he had explored millions of times, he felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through his veins, leaving him on a high. He felt a freedom he hadn’t felt before, a rush of excitement that came with breaking the rules for the first time.

They came to a standstill, at the base of some large tree that was a gift from a faraway kingdom some hundreds of years ago, panting like they had run. Maybe they had run, but Matt hadn’t noticed if they did, instead relishing in simply following blindly into an unexpected small adventure when he should have been attending to his duties.

“This is a big tree.” Bandor comments, looking up. Matt follows his line of sight, even though he doesn’t need to. It’s glaringly obvious what he’s talking about, but he takes a moment to really reconsider it. He had never thought about, he rarely ventured outside the safety the castle walls promised, but now that he had it brought some things into perspective.

“Let’s climb it.” Matt decided, standing back up straight with only a huff in his breath. He glances back at Bandor, who’s look of surprise morphed into a smirk that mirrored his own.

“I like the way you think.”

And that’s how it began. As a kid he never did climb a tree, was never given the opportunity as a child and had only been given more duties as he grew up, but he had seen his sister outside the window when he had to study and had idly wondered what it would be like. It took a while to reach a good distance off the ground, but when he did there and decided to rest on one of the large branches, he felt a new feeling of freedom, different from what he had felt before. Everything looked so small, and as Bandor settled next to him, he could only stare in awe around the land. He felt a smirk on his face glancing at the castle and seeing his sisters room light up. 

“Woah.” Bandor says, getting comfortable on the large branch. “This is really cool- I’ve never been this high up before. It feels… Magical, somehow.”

Matt nods along. Magical. Yes, that word fit the view perfectly. The sun had all but set, just a few glimmers of rays reaching out desperately against the already darkened sky brimming with stars. The music from the ball was faint, and the murmurs and laughter and banter was as well- distant, but there. The garden was barely visible, the light from the ball casting a very soft glow that did not reach out very far, but at the edges fireflies has begun to emerge from their resting places to emit their own light, flitting around like little fairies amongst the flowers and shrubbery. The garden fountain emits its own soft light, as it always had, but this time around it felt more mystical. He wasn’t sure how to describe it, but he knew he definitely liked what he saw.

Matt sighs, letting himself slump. Night had fallen and now that he was no longer moving, the chill of the night was now hitting him, but at the same time he could feel the warmth Bandor offered by his side. It’s nice, he thinks, it’s really nice.

They’re quiet for a few moments, or maybe it was minutes. It could have even been hours, but what he does know is they they’re there for a while, in a mutually comfortable silence. Other than the faint music and even fainter chirps of active crickets and frogs and whatever goes bump in the night, the occasional owl hoots. The soft breeze smooths around them, to let them know that the world is still moving, yet it feels like a frozen moment in time, like they’re truly separated from the world. He can hear Bandors now calmed and soft breathing, and becomes almost all too aware of his own. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, and he worriedly wonders if Bandor can hear it too.

“It almost doesn’t feel real doesn’t it.” Bandor breaks the silence. He’s staring at Matt when Matt turns to look, and Matt can’t help but stare back. The stars seem to have decided to bless Bandor and the reflection of the stars sparkle beautifully in his blue eyes. The moonlight hits his pale skin and brown hair softly, giving it an almost wispy or ethereal look. Matt idly wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks.

“Makes you wonder what’s real and what isn’t.” Bandor continues. His gaze wanders down. He bites his lip.

Then he pushes forward and captures Matt’s lips with his own. It’s soft, softer than he expected.

He lets it happen.

He’s 16 when he has his first kiss.


	2. baddaaaaboombadabinggg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> matt is gy

The heat lingers on his lips when they pull back. He touches his lips with his own fingertips idly as he stares at Bandor slightly out of breath. His lips are swollen too. They had been kissing a while, he supposed.

He had never kissed someone before, who would he have kissed before this after all, and he wonders it if it’s like this for everyone. He admits, there might have been a little too much teeth here and there, and a little too much tongue every now and then, but he also has to admit that it was nice. He feels warmer now, but that doesn’t make sense since he also feels the cold a lot more now that they had separated. 

He’s a bit breathless, because it feels like he had gotten the air knocked right out of him. Truth of it was he forgot how to breathe. Bandor’s in the same state as him, so he wonders if he too forgot to breathe or if it was intentional. Either way, he’s glad they’re the same in that moment.

Bandor flushes, a pretty pink filling his features before turning forward. It’s interesting to see, since he had no qualms initiating it all. Matt wonders what’s going on through his mind. He wonders if Bandor regrets it, if even an iota.

He turns forward too, face flushed against the brisk air. He sets a hand on top of Bandors on the branch they sit on. He doesn’t pull away, so they stay like that for a while. The air is full with unspoken words, but Matt chooses to ignore it in favor for the tranquility of the moment, in the darkness that hid them from the rest of the world. He doesn’t want to break that moment with strings of words, not yet. His heart is beating fast, and louder than before. He wonders if Bandor can hear it now.

That’s how they greet the morning. The sunrise is a lot more beautiful than from what he remembered.

Eventually they have to go down, because they have things to do, people to see, places to visit- all those tedious things. But it’s a long way down and they take their time. They’re really not in a rush. The grass is wet with morning dew as they trudge back onto the stone tiles of the garden. The ends of their pants and shoes a gently scraped with droplets and streaks of water, but they heed it no mind. As they return guests are beginning to leave, and Bandor must go with them. They spot his sister, and she’s simply shining if something good happened to her.

Matt glances at Bandor and thinks he’s absolutely radiant. He wonders how he himself looks when Bandor turns to him. Bandor grabs his arm and pulls him aside, back outside and into a maze to a private corner.

“Not yet.” Bandor says, barely a hot whisper against his lips. Maybe it’s a plea, but Matt doesn’t argue. Instead he bridges the distance between them and kisses him deeply, pulling him into an embrace that he couldn’t do when they were in the tree lest he had a death wish. It’s not as hesitant as the first one had been, and it was a lot more desperate, but Matt didn’t have a single complaint, not even when Bandor clutched as his clothes wrinkling them in his grasp in attempt to pull himself closer. It’s not possible, but he tries anyway, and Matt follows his lead there too. It’s almost bittersweet, because Bandor must return to his land soon, and there’s no way Matt would be able to request he stay. He’s too busy to be able to entertain him the next few days, but when they seperate for air they whisper promises of letters.

The notion of it all is so ridiculous Matt could almost laugh. But he can’t, laugh that is, because he’s serious about this. There’s something about that stranger, who dropped all formalities to steal him away on some mini adventure, and then kissed him breathless, that really made his heart skip. He had come to the ball to find his bride, his princess, but instead found himself a prince who wasn’t really a prince.

He didn’t know what he was throwing himself into, he didn’t even know who Bandor really was. There was a lot he didn’t know. He had never given any thought to thinking about men in a romantic way, for it was always assumed he would marry a princess and settle down to have a child or two. It didn’t mean he didn’t like girls, he knew he found them attractive, but he simply never gave thought to men. It simply never occurred to him, but now that it had he found that he wasn’t averse to the idea. Was it normal? Was it abnormal? Was it acceptable? He didn’t know, he didn’t have the slightest idea of what was the right answer to these questions. But what he did know was that, at that moment, Bandor had enraptured him more than any other person had before romantically, and he didn’t want to let it go.

He goes through with his day, despite not having been able to sleep since the previous night, and in the evening when he sees his sister again he teases her about not having been at the ball and that she was too much of a hermit to support her poor older brother go through an important event. He stretches the nickname he’s given her when he faux whines, and once again narrowly dodges a book to the head on his way out with a cackle. He feels like he’s on top of the world, and when he finishes bathing and is back in his own room in his nightwear, his body is completely ready to fall into the comforting clutches of sleep, but his mind and heart do not share the same sentiment, so instead he pulls up his seat at his personal desk, pulls out some parchment, a pen, and begins writing.

The next day, in the morning, he has the letter sent off, and then resumes back to his life as if nothing ever happened, or at least he tries. He does not know if it shows, and he hopes it does not, but Bandor suddenly takes up a lot of his thoughts. It only worsens with each letter he receives and sends out. He saves all the letters in a small locked box, and keeps the key on a string around his neck and hidden by his clothes. He does not mind.

A year passes like that, and he is 16, on the edge of becoming 17, and his sister is 11, and he’s looking forward to the ball this year. He would have a required ball every birthday from when he’s 16 until he’s 21, and the same would be true for his sister.

However, this year he is more excited than he was the year prior, because in the most recent letter from Bandor he’s told he will be there this year again too. It was only because of his previous interest in Romelle that they were coming back again since they live so far away, and Matt tries not to think too much of it. Bandor seems to have already predicted how he would feel, and reassures him that Romelle shares the same sentiment and she has no intention to pursue anything with him, but was willing to pull up a facade because she knew that he was important to her brother. The details or how or why she didn’t know, and Matt hoped they would remain omitted for a while yet, but he was grateful nonetheless.

She had only one request in exchange: that Matt invite certain princesses from certain kingdoms for sure. He does not mention that they’ve already R.S.V.P’d, and promises that they will be there. She’s satisfied with that.

Days later he’s 17, and once again he’s woken up before dawn, but this time he’s prepared. He had gone to sleep absurdly early the day before, and made sure he would stay asleep until his body could not bear to sleep longer by using various home remedies that he had learned from the maidservants in his upbringing. He admits, he’s a bit more drowsy and disoriented when he awakes, but he pushes past all that and chugs along, eager for the evening.

As it turns out, Romelle and Bandor arrive in the afternoon. They’re early, he thinks, before he learns that it’s customary, especially since Romelle is a potential prospect for a bride, a lover, a princess. His parents are completely accepting if he chooses to not find a lover yet- the nobles, however, not quite. Regardless, it’s convenient for Matt this way, and he insists on greeting the siblings. The nobles pushing for a wedding are fine with this arrangement, oblivious to his true intentions, and allow the young prince to welcome the two.

Romelle immediately retires to her room, preparing to settle in as they are staying for two weeks, along with other various princesses (Romelle’s choice ones at that). Matt and Bandor take advantage of this and hide away in his room. The servants are all busy, and already assume he’s entertaining and attempting to woo Romelle from a faraway land. Matt does not correct them and instead takes advantage of that too.

They waste no time, falling onto the soft cushions of his bed and grasping at each other as if the other were an oasis after spending a year in the desert without water. Their kisses are more desperate than ever before- and are hot and open mouthed and remain so for several minutes. The blood in Matt’s veins flowed hot, and a feeling of desire pooled in his gut, and could feel himself begin to rise to hardness, but it’s too soon for that, and it’s almost all too soon they pull away, panting and breathless. Their faces are flushed pink, almost a red, from an expected yet unexpected exertion, as they stare at each other, staring into each others eyes as if trying to burn the image into their minds, or at least Matt is trying.

A year with no physical contact. A year without hearing each other’s voices. A year without seeing each other. A year with only written word to keep them together. It was like torture, and maybe that is why they were so desperate to all but jump the other the moment they were alone again. He had missed this. He had missed him. It was incredible to see how much just one night for exactly a year ago had impacted the both of them, reducing them to desperation on sight. 

Their clothes are a bit uncomfortable, and their particular positions are a little less than desirable, but they made no move to move, and were content in each others embrace. It filled Matt with a different kind of warmth that warmed him from the inside, and as he rest his head on Bandor’s chest, he found is reassuring to hear his head beat loud and fast. He wondered if Bandor could feel or hear his.

“Well,” Bandor starts, “I’m guessing you’re happy to see me?”

Matt huffs in response. “Don’t play coy with me.”

“Sorry sorry,” Bandor apologizes, but his smile gives him away. “I mean,  _ princess _ , how have you been.”

Matt snorts and weakly slaps him on the arm. “Just awful, but I’m better now that you’re here.” He nuzzles into his chest and Bandor completely wraps around him, resting his chin on top of Matt.

“Missed you too.” Bandor says, nuzzling his own nose in Matt’s hair, and giving a quick kiss on his forehead before allowing himself to relax. Matt can feel the sigh under him, and sighs along. Bandor languidly rubs circles on Matt’s back, and Matt allows himself to rest his eyes, shutting them contentedly. The moment is perfect for all it’s worth, and Matt can’t help the smile on his face. He can feel Bandor’s lips twitch into a smile on top of his head.

It’s perfect, but the world keeps moving and eventually they must join it as well. He doesn’t want to leave, he groans in complaint like a petulant child, and snuggles himself more for a few brief moments before he pulls back. It’s not particularly cold in the castle, in his room, but the cool air hits him all at once, and his shivers a bit before lending a hand. Bandor takes it, with all grace and poise as a noble would, but doesn’t let go. Instead he stands close to Matt, and brings a hand to cup his face and rub small circles with his thumb before leaning into another kiss. Matt surrenders to it completely. They walk back to the door and Bandor repeats his actions one last time, and Matt lets himself become engulfed. It’s their last kiss for a while, but it’s not desperate, but instead full of longing, as if they’re trying to imprint the other’s flavor in their memory to tide them over until their next rendezvous.

Responsibilities are a pain, he thinks, and he’s impatient for it to all end. He had never been like this before. Before he had been only minorly inconvenienced or tired, but with Bandor only a few rooms away, all he wants is for everything to end.

He gets some knowing and teasing looks, as if everyone knew what he was thinking, but he knows they’re not, at least not completely. He receives a few remarks about how those in love with their first love always want to throw caution into the wind and indulge themselves, and at the mention of first love he reddens, which doesn’t help his case. His father attempts to be stern, to tell him he mustn't let himself be a lovesick fool, but even he gets teased because he was the same when he met Matt’s mother. Like father like son, they say, and Matt wants to burrow himself away out of sheer embarrassment.

But soon enough it pays off, and he’s off for the evening. He goes to search for Bandor, but Bandor is already waiting for him. Matt wants to embrace him, but he can’t- it’s still too crowded and they have to wait until they’re in private, but that won’t be possible for a while because he had completely forgotten about the ball, and is soon enough whisked away by the maids, and Bandor is laughing. Matt pouts, and he hopes the slight warmth in his cheeks isn’t noticeable.

The tedious formalities drag on longer than he wants, when the ball begins, and he must greet all the princesses and other various royals that were specially invited per request. Bandor is escorting his sister, as is customary, and because of various misunderstandings that revolve around the fact Matt had an interest in her, they were to be the last ones he greeted before he could truly socialize. He doesn’t want to, but he must continue with the act until he can escape. His sister is by his side, which is not customary, and Matt idly wonders if she knows she doesn’t actually have to be there.

He admits, she’s a bit spoiled, for there would be no repercussions if she left or never showed up at all. He doesn’t tell her, because her activity does elevate her reputation, which would make things easier for her in the future.Still, he’s tempted to tell her because there’s a few eyes in the crowd watching her, especially one pair in particular, but she is not of age, not yet. She still had three years to go before she was to be required to attend the balls of other princes, and 5 until she had to have her own ball. But then Bandor and Romelle are in front of them and any thought Matt had is completely overshadowed by thoughts of Bandor. Bandor smiles, teetering on the edge of too familiar and too unprofessional, and Matt’s knees feel weak and can feel himself pink a bit before he addresses Romelle. 

There’s nothing he wants more than to run away with Bandor in that moment, but he must keep up appearances, so he invites the both of them, as well as including his sister, to see their indoor garden. His sister is shocked, because she had no idea that it existed, and Matt is surprised she didn’t know, but quickly regains his composure to tease her. She pouts, but she does not resist because she’s genuinely curious, that and she wants an excuse to leave the ball.

He wants to leave right away, but they can’t, not quite yet, because he needs to keep up appearances, and goes to ask Romelle if she has any other female companions she wants to invite with them, but he never gets the chance to because the boy who had been intently watching his sister walks up to them, another girl beside him.

“Greetings, Prince Matthew, Princess K-Katherine, Earl Bandor, The Lady Romelle.” the boy addresses each of them, nodding to each one. It’s formal, yet casual, because they are all still sorts of form children. “I am Prince Alexander, and this is my sister Princess Adelheid.” The girl waved shyly in greeting.

“A pleasure meeting you.” Matt responds, taking the princess’s hand and placing a brief kiss on her fingertips before letting go. Beside him, Bandor stiffens a bit, his smile a little more taut, and Matt wonders if he’s jealous. He lets a small smile turn his lips. He finds he doesn’t mind it.

In fact, he thinks he likes it.

“We couldn’t help but overhear you mention an indoor garden. My sister here enjoys them very much, and forgive me for intruding but may we join you?”

This, however, he didn’t like. He couldn’t even say no, because that name not only was it on the special invite list, but Romelle’s stare at him promised nothing good should he try to refuse. He does not outwardly sigh, for a prince was not rude, but he could feel his smile tighten just a bit more.

“Of course! The more the merrier.” he says, and that’s that. 

Romelle immediately takes to the young girl, who is the same age as she and Alexander matches his pace with Matt’s sister. He frowns slightly at the sight, but he doesn’t so much as comment on it because Alexander doesn’t attempt to start a conversation. The look on his face says he would enjoy it, but whatever shy streak the boy has takes over, and a red takes over his face as his sister remains ever oblivious. It would be endearing were it not he was clearly after her.

He finds out Alexander is only a year older than Katie. The thought greatly displeases him.

“Hey, don’t be so tense.” Bandor all but whispers to him. Despite being the only one who knew about the whereabouts of the garden, he and Bandor trailed after the others, with Alexander and Katie in the front, and once they’re out of sight from the other guests, Bandor carefully takes his hand and rubs circles with his thumb on the back of Matt’s hand. He relaxes, but only slightly. Bandor seems to take that as a victory and continues.

“Easier said than done.” Matt retorts. “That brat isn’t up to anything good.”

“You really do care about your sister, don’t you.” Bandor states. Matt goes to reply with an “Of course” but the reply dies just as quickly on his tongue when he looks as Bandor. He has a soft smile on his face and Matt can’t help but flush slightly.

The night drags on, and eventually they find the garden. It’s filled with exotic plants from far away lands and have been carefully and meticulously cared for. Romelle and Adelheid find a place to sit and chatter, and much to his displeasure Alexander seems to know a lot about plants and specifically recognizes many in the garden. His sister takes a bit of an interest, normally interested in tech yet intrigued by the intricacies of Mother Nature.

Alexander seemed to have more of an interest in flora than he claimed his sister had, Matt thinks to himself bitterly.

“Matt,” Bandor places a hand on his shoulder, and leans over to whisper in his ear. “They’re occupied now, so why don’t we-”

Matt turns, and he finds they’re very close. Their noses are brushing and their breaths are mingling, and the unexpected change in mood makes him suddenly hypersensitive, but his resolve his firm.

“No way.” Matt says. “I am not leaving my sister alone with  _ him _ . They’re only a year apart! A year! She will be 15 when he is 16- do you know what that means? She may have to attend his  _ balls _ , and there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll be going to hers when she turns 16. That’s six years worth of balls, and twice a year- and that’s not counting  _ my balls _ . There’s no way they won’t be considered prospects for each other so they’ll spend 4 weeks in total together each year, at the very least with just that alone. And that’s only if they don’t make other arrangements, which they could very well make! He’s the first prince and she’s the first princess, so the arrangement would be perfect! No one would oppose it!” He whisper yells. Bandor looks taken aback quite a bit, and Matt feels a bit of guilt pulls at his conscious, but then Bandor is laughing, and pulls him to the side.

“Okay okay, we won’t leave,” Bandor relents. “After all, we still have another 2 weeks ahead of us.” He gingerly steals a kiss from Matt, and Matt reddens, slightly embarrassed from his unexpected outburst. Bandor just laughs, and soon after they rejoin the others.

Unlike the magical night they had a year ago, they spend the night surveilling Alexander and Katie, which was for the most part uneventful. Matt decides to try and butt in at the beginning, asserting himself into the conversation. All he gets is a pained look on Alexanders face, an annoyed on on Katie’s, an amused one on Bandor’s and a pot of dirt on his head. He loathes to admit it, but there’s not much he can do, and the rest of the night he watches from the sidelines, steaming in his watchspot as Bandor soothes him in his own quiet and subtle ways through faint sweet words and soft touches.

It’s then fine, until the hour of the ball is coming to a close and everyone must retire to their rooms. Matt whispers a request to Bandor to spend the night in his, but Bandor must refuse because his sister gets restless when she’s not home, and he’s her reassurance. Matt can’t say anything to that, but does manage to get in another kiss as they reach the resting quarters. It’s all fine, until it isn’t.

When they reach Katie’s room, which was the closest, it’s Alexander who bids her a good night first, and takes her hand, to which she doesn’t resist, and delicately places a kiss upon her fingertips. He holds her hand far longer than necessary, Matt thinks, but he never gets the chance to say anything because he’s dumbstruck by the cute face he had never seen his sister make, and the soft giggle she covers with her other hand, and then he’s shocked when his sister becomes daring and daintily and swiftly places a kiss of her own on his cheek, then retreats back into her room with haste. Alexander is red faced, and Matt is fuming. It’s only because of Bandor that Alexander lives to see another day.

Everyone else retires to their rooms, Matt must make sure of it before he can retire. Romelle is watching when they reach hers and Bandors resting quarters, so he cannot give nor receive a goodnight kiss. The soft smile he gets is a suitable replacement for now.

He’s finally able to rest for the last few hours he can, and all's right with the world.

He nearly forgets the reason why he’s able to see Bandor again, but when the new day is up and greets him, he is reminded of what made it possible.

The table is very full in the morning, full of princesses and other noble royalty and their escort of choice. The next two weeks his must carefully balance making equal and ample time with each girl, entertain her, juggle his responsibilities, keep an eye on Alexander and Katie- and keep them apart if possible, and find time with Bandor. The things he does for infatuation. It’s a difficult task, and the moments they can spend together are brief, and the two weeks simultaneously pass far too slowly and far too quickly for his liking.

It’s only when everyone is preparing for departure that they manage to find more alone time together, and just like the first day when Bandor and Romelle had arrived, they find themselves in Matt’s room, entangled in each other in his bed. It’s a lot more comfortable this time, not dangling awkwardly off the furniture, and had situated themselves better this time. 

Their lips are lock and their tongues are fighting a battle neither cares who loses but is determined to win, yet it’s still a tranquil moment until Bandor bites Matt’s bottom lip, and sucks on it a bit. Matt lets out a sound he never knew he could make- something akin to a whine, but not quite, and they both freeze. They seperate, but only just barely, and they’re both breathing heavy, staring into each others eyes. Matt covers his face as it burns shamefully. Bandor has none of it and pushes it away, only looking him deeply in his eyes, before dipping down to meld their lips once more.

It’s a lot slower this time, unlike their comfortable pace from before. It’s closer to torture, yet it’s full of passion and feeling. It leaves Matt feeling warm from the ends of his toes to the tips of his ears. Bandor goes back to biting his lip, sucking on it, harshly, until he receives the same response he had before, then shifts so their lips are no longer as aligned. Matt goes to chase after him, already missing it, but he misses and instead is on the receiving end as Bandor kisses down and along his jawline, slowly making his way down his neck. Somewhere along the line Bandor decides to flip them so he’s on top, and Matt can only tilt his head back into the pillows as Bandor nips at his neck. The pool of desire is hot in the pits of his stomach, coiling and tightening more with every action Bandor made.

“Matt,” Bandor breathes, the warm air ghosting his skin, making him shiver involuntarily. “Can I?”

“Yeah.” Matt responds. There’s no need to clarify anything, and he’s all too aware when Bandor starts palming him to full hardness and he moans, eyes flitting nearly shut.

Matt’s arms are up and around Bandor’s shoulders, but he moves one to reach downward and grab Bandors hand. Bandor gives him a look of confusion, but Matt only moves his hand away and wraps his legs around Bandor’s torso and aligns them so they’re rubbing each other. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but the friction is delicious- and then it ends all too soon when Bandor stops them, and reaches between them. With unsteady hands he goes to free the both of them, and soon enough they’re shedding clothes, and they decide to take it all off. They have to seperate, but soon enough they’re embracing each other again, bare skin on bare skin. Matt resumes his place with his legs around Bandor’s torso and they align once more.

Bandor reaches down to hold the both of them in one hand, rubbing the precum around and to keep them aligned, and Matt goes back to wrapping both arms around Bandor, but slightly different. He’s more grasping at his bare back, and he’s breathing heavier now. He keeps moaning and whining and the coil in his gut just keeps tightening and he’s at a loss at what to do so he blindly looks for Bandor’s shoulder as they both keep grinding desperately at each other, and just when he thinks he can’t take it anymore, he bites into his shoulder at the same time Bandor decides to bite his neck.

They climax and Bandor gives out and falls on top of him despite the sticky white mess they’ve made. It happens so quickly, but they’re satisfied, relishing in the afterglow of post-orgasm and each other’s warmth. It’s the most intimate they’ve been, and Matt wonders if they had been too hasty, or if it was too soon, but there’s not a single part of him that regrets it- he would do it all over again if they had the energy. All his worries are pushed aside as he lives in the moment- for Bandor has to leave soon, so such an action is only to be expected.

All good things must come to an end, and later that day was no exception. All the other princesses and candidates had already left, and Bandor and Romelle were the last to leave. Katie is in her room, a strange mix of happiness and sadness, and already Matt wants to pulverise the Alexander who made her this way, but he stores that thought away for later as he must bid farewell to his lover and his sister. The time they have together is all too brief, but Romelle dismisses herself first and climbs into the carriage to give the two just a little bit more privacy. It’s a nice thought, but they’re still being watched by guards, so they can’t be as close as they want to be, but they still manage to say goodbye as if they were the only ones in the world.

“I’ll see you soon, huh.” Bandor smirks. It’s weak, but neither of them comment on it.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.” Matt replies with a smirk of his own. It’s also weak, and just like before neither of them comment on it. The thought that they won’t be able to see each other for at least another year is tough, but Matt is glad for their intimacy earlier- it would have to do to tide him over until they were back in each other’s arms.

And just like that, Matt is watching the carriage disappear off the estate with a small wave, and remains that way even after the carriage is long gone out of sight. 

The castle is colder than from what he remembered that night.

The first few days a relatively bearable- he has to catch up on all the duties he had been forced to neglect, but after things resume their usual pace, he gets caught up in his thoughts. He misses Bandor already, his smile, his laugh, his warmth, and it becomes commonplace that he’s teased about his first love. He doesn’t know if it’s love, he’s scared it’s too soon for that- that it really was just strong infatuation.

He leaves it at that.

Alexander comes to visit again, alone this time, and Matt does not approve.Unfortunately, Alexander does come from a big kingdom as well, so things are looking good for him. In the eyes of politics, it would be beneficial for both kingdoms for a marriage to occur- a sign of good relations and an alliance. Katie was the first princess but the second child, leaving her as a perfect candidate for marriage, and Alexander, as the first prince, though second child, would rule over the kingdom one day. Their customs were different slightly in who would inherit the kingdom than their own, but it had worked well for a long time and there were no qualms, especially with the circumstances surround his sister. Katie and Alexander were both intelligent, and would rule the kingdom well, raise their children well, and it would remain a good future for all of their reign- should they marry in the future.

It was all good, but Matt still doesn’t like it, so he pouts the entire duration.

He and Bandor still write each other letters and with each one they count down the days until they can see each other again. Still, he denies that it’s love, and from the little that they know the other nobility gleam it to be as such. Matt thinks they’re ridiculous, but he has all the time in the world to figure out his feelings, until he doesn’t.

Bandor doesn’t write a letter for a while. Matt merely assumes he’s busy, as his 18th birthday is coming up so he must prepare for Matt’s ball. It’s three days before the ball before he receives any correspondence, and it’s a beautiful day. He’s sitting outside, listening to the birds chirp, and simply enjoying existing, when one of the butlers comes out to hand him a letter. He graciously thanks the older man, and waits until he leaves to open the letter. He opens it to find it’s not what he’s expecting.

It’s a letter from Romelle, something he had never gotten before nor believed he would get, but it is her name that dons the letter and not Bandors, and as he reads and absorbs the content of the letter, he isn’t sure of what to feel or what to think.

It’s three days before his 18th birthday, and Bandor, his first love, is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol its 4:20 am


	3. Chapter 3

He’s 17 and his sister is 13. 

The letter is depressingly formal, and it leaves him in shock. He has to reread it to make sure he’s reading the right thing. He wonders if he has to have his eyes checked, or if he’s accidentally fallen asleep in the garden and is having a bad dream. He wonders if he’s been drugged or eaten something bad and is now having hallucinations, or if some curse was placed on him, but no matter how much he rubs his eyes the words do not change.

And just like that, the days pass in a blur. He feels like an empty shell of himself, and finds himself more in his room than not. He knows what the others are saying and thinking- that he’s unexpectedly emotional. They blame it on his young nature, that it’ll affect him less in the future, but it also begins to sprout doubts about him. The little things begin to pile up, and he knows that he’s tarnished his image, even if just a bit.

Romelle doesn’t show up for the ball. It’s a cruel thing, because the day of his 18th birthday is the day Bandor is to be buried, but he can’t skip out on the ball and it’s a two days trip. Fate spins her cruel web, tightening each knot and snipping off loose ends, and later that night he recieves another letter. If he thought the other letter was depressingly formal, this one was suffocatingly so. 

Romelle is to be married in three days times, already of age at 17, and if Matt so did desire, he could make the two day trip. He could go bid her one final farewell or attempt to steal her away if he desired, but he doesn’t. 

She’s marrying into a kingdom that his own did not have good relations with, and he isn’t invited to the wedding. Besides that, he has his own potential lovers and brides to attend to, a possible suitor for his sister to watch, and responsibilities to take care of.

He doesn’t know if he has the strength to see her at all.

The next few days seem to pass in a blur, and more often than not Matt must be roused from the moments he loses focus, with either nothing or Bandor on his mind. 

The news of the wedding reaches the ears of others soon enough, and he’s given looks of pity. They don’t know the true reason for his state, but he still appreciates how lenient the others become, even if temporarily. Weeks pass like this, and he’s stuck in his own little daze seemingly separated from the rest of the world, but then he’s lying in bed staring mindlessly at the ceiling when he hears a knock at the door.

Katie is there, a blanket around her shoulders, and her skin is a bit too sickly pale to pass off as healthy. She’s sweating and her nose is bright red and her eyes have dark bags when she glances up at him pitifully.

She’s weak, confused, and terribly sick, and she seems to have used up all her strength because moments later she faints, only narrowly hitting against the floor because of his hold on her. He’s shocked, a huge new mix of emotions to see his younger sister in such a state unsupervised, and carries her to the infirmary. They’re both in a disarray, but he could care less and the staff and such were sworn to secrecy anyway. 

It turns out she’s been under a lot of stress, which leaves her a lot more vulnerable and prone to diseases- as she had been as a baby- the reason he had to wait an entire year before he could see her. His mind flashes to the worst case scenarios immediately, and the thought she could die strikes a chord in him.

He’s already lost someone he loved. He couldn’t bare to lose another- not his dear sister.

The suddenness and shock of the whole ordeal kicks him into gear, and he’s back to his duties. His smile is a little less warm, a little less common, but he can’t let the thought of Bandor keep him back. There were many people depending on him now, and he added a more constant watch on his sister.

She tells him that he shouldn’t worry so much, that she was fine, but attempts to also play it off in a casual joking manner. The protests falls on deaf ears, and Matt finds himself with Katie more often than not. He’s always watching, and is anxious when he’s not around. She recovers her health well enough, but even then he keeps her in his sights.

But they are only human and they both have responsibilities and Matt cannot always be around her, much to his displeasure and her relief. He’s a worried mess when he’s alone, but it’s necessary.

It’s a horrendously bright day when he’s told he has to go in a town. Katie has her own lessons to attend to, so he can’t bring her along. He’s anxious, and no one reassures him, but regardless he must do what must be done. He gets into a carriage, dressed in fine clothes to distinguish him, and enters the town.

He has to meet with a lady who owns a pub. It’s a strange meeting, because she has nothing of worth to offer, being a modest villager, and seemingly no ties with any nobility or politics, and after a conversation that felt more like idle chatter rather than business, she gifts him with a small basket of  _ something _ and says to make sure it’s delivered to his mother. He is confused, but if his parents trusted her then he may as well too, but he still carries some level of suspicion.

It’s then as he’s making his way back to his carriage, to his sister, that a scuffle attracts his attention. He should be getting back, it would be wiser to go back, but he’s only heard about such barbaric actions in passing when the lower nobles gossip. A fight here, a fight there, a black eye or battle scarred back- he’s heard of them but he’s never seen them himself. He’s curious, and thinks to himself it’d only be a moment, just enough to satisfy his desire to know, and so he tells his men to wait for him, much to their displeasure, and runs down to turn a corner.

He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, but it’s not this. It’s not right, it’s not chivalrous, but there it was. A lone boy was being kicked and hit from all angles possible repeatedly, but still he stood, taking the hits, blocking a few, and giving a few more of his own. He’s simply outnumbered, and even Matt and his lack of knowledge knows that this is a futile struggle.

There’s a crowd gathering, but they don’t pay Matt much attention. Instead, they’re focusing on the cruel beat down, and they gossip to one another, not bothering to lower their voices, as if it did not affect them. And maybe they were right, it did not affect them, as it probably hadn’t before and wouldn’t in the future. The lack of camaraderie and compassion is heartbreaking, but even more so is the collective acceptance of such acts and ways of thinking. Matt looks down, and his fists are clenched. He’s not sure of what to do. He’s the crown prince, yet how can he expect to change something so set in stone like this at a moments notice. He doesn’t have the time to change the town’s collective mindset- his actions today wouldn’t matter, so he decides to leave.

He resigns as he realizes that what his parents must have wanted was for him to see and learn how reality really was.

It’s then he raises his gaze, and he notices that the boy as fallen. He’s fallen on his back, but quickly sits up and his teeth are bared- a little pointier than normal. He wipes the blood off his face with his scrapped sleeve, and he’s glaring at everyone around him.

For a moment, they meet eyes. For a moment his eyes flash yellow. For a moment Matt sees something in those eyes.

“He’s Galran.” gossips one of the onlooking villagers. “He deserves what he’s getting for even existing. He’ll be dead by the day’s end.”

“I thought Galrans looked a little more, I don’t know, elf like.” says another villager.

“He’s probably a mix, poor mutt, but you can tell by the color of their blood. It’s always purple- almost black. It’s absolutely demonic.” replies the first villager again.

And that’s all it takes to kick Matt into gear.

“Hey!” he calls, summoning up all power, confidence, and authority he can in his voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The villagers look him up and down. They don’t seem to recognize him as a person, because of his rare public appearances, but they do seem to know by his clothes that he is someone of importance and temporarily cease their beat down to size him up.

“Just cleaning up a mess.” says one of them. There’s no shame in his voice. “What, do you want in too? Have another idea of how to finish off this pest?” It’s not taunting, but instead they’re genuine questions, as if this were something normal. Matt feels sick, but he continues.

“Leave him to me.” Matt says, and then walks with the strongest demeanor he can conjure up, and walks to the boy until he’s standing right in front of him. All the villagers are watching, seeing what he’ll do, but he just stands there, and the boy is all tensed up, hunched over in a feral position that’s ready to pounce, and they stare off. Matt has never been one to follow his gut instincts, at least not to this extent, but there’s something telling him there’s something special about this boy whose hair is too long and skin too pale. He’s watching that look in his eyes, and it’s after several long moments he closes his own, sighs, then lets his face soften.

“Work for me.” he says. It’s not eloquent, not in the slightest, but he’s gauging the boys reaction. There’s confusion and wariness, but he doesn’t attack so Matt takes that as a good sign.

“What the hell do you mean?” one of the villagers asks.

“Idiot.” another hushes them. “Obviously as a slave or something. Just those things nobles do. Do his dirty work and all that.”

The boy is obviously listening too, Matt swears his ears twitch, and once again he’s bringing his walls back up again, but Matt decides to take a risk as the murmuring begins.

“Please trust me.” he whispers faintly. “Not as a slave, never, but I can get you out of here safe and sound.”

The boy narrows his eyes, but he glances around discreetly. He’s evaluating his options, Matt realizes. He hopes the boy will go with him.

“I don’t have a choice do I.” It’s a statement more than it is a question, and at that some of the villagers start to leave, realizing there will be no more action. The first to go are the attacking villagers, but others soon join them as they start going back to their daily lives as if nothing ever happened.

Matt smiles sadly.

The boy follows him, that is until they’re about to turn the corner and the villagers are no longer watching them. In one quick and swift movement the boy pulls him into an alleyway, and pins him against the wall. It’s similar to a kabedon, something he learned about another country far to the east, except it’s clearly not romantic, if the dagger at his throat says anything about it. He’s sweating a little bit, a bit nervous, but he’s fairly confident that it will end fine. Mostly.

“Why.” the boy says. His purple/grey eyes seem to be trying to search his own for an answer. “Why did you- why are you doing this. Why are you not struggling- why do you want me- what do you want-  _ why _ ?” 

He’s begging, Matt realizes, and he’s trembling, even if just slightly. His own eyes widen in realization for just a moment before he softens his features.

“I need a guard.” Matt says. “And I think you’d be perfect person for that position.”

“What.” the boy looks at him in confusion.

“Not for me, though, but for my younger sister. I need someone capable and strong, because she’s been weak recently and I’m worried about her.” Matt continues, not giving him a moment more to speak. “Obviously I’d compensate you for your work. Good pay- you’d also be a live-in guard so we’ll have quarters prepared for you. You can’t eat with us, but the kitchens will always be made readily available if you’re ever hungry-”

“Why- you don’t even know me. How would you know I’m good for this job.” the boy questions and Matt smiles.

“You’re strong, I saw you.” Matt says. “But that’s not all. You have this look in your eyes. You’re strong in ways that others are not. I feel I can trust you, so, will you give me a chance?”

“You’re crazy.”  
Matt smiles.

“I can accept that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eh


End file.
